


Bittersweet Meetings

by DrusillaTheBloody, queerfanwrites



Series: Fractured Futures [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Character Death, i cried while writing, seriously this is hella emotional, the authors are EVIL, wilf is a father figure to the doctor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrusillaTheBloody/pseuds/DrusillaTheBloody, https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerfanwrites/pseuds/queerfanwrites
Summary: Wilf meets the Doctor for the final time, but she is almost too late. He asks her to look after Donna.





	Bittersweet Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Fractured Futures series by DrusillaTheBloody and queerfanwrites. This is one of a series of alternate endings to the Doctor meeting Wilfred Mott again with Yaz in tow. Warnings, this is a sad one. (queerfanwrites: because DrusillaTheBloody is EVIL and I sort of challenged her to write a really sad final meeting in response to another wip, so really it’s kinda my fault, oops…)

Wilfred Mott pulled his scarf tighter around him. There was no snow this year, but the chill in the air made his old bones ache and shiver. It almost made him wish he’d passed up the offer to work the Christmas Eve shift this year. His tiny newspaper stand did little to shield him from the elements, after all. But this was the first Christmas, a whole year since that awful, awful day when the Doctor saved Wilfred’s life at the expense of his own. He couldn’t just sit around the house doing nothing, not with all that blame swimming around inside his head. So, just like every other day, he’d got up and gone out to work, given himself something else to focus on, before he could come home and enjoy Christmas with his family. He shivered again as a particularly strong gust blew around him. The gusting wind groaned and wheezed, threatening to take the piles of newspapers with it. Wilf sighed. A hot cup of tea would be nice, he thought wistfully.

After a minute the groaning stopped and, mercifully, so did the wind. Somewhere in the distance, a door squeaked on its hinges. Wilf peered out of his shelter, trying to find the source of the voices that floated over to him. They were the first people he’d heard in a while after all; not many souls were brave enough to be out and about in this weather. He could do with some company, even if it was only for a few minutes.

“…doesn’t always go where I want, but if she’s landed here there must be something important here!” a woman’s voice rang out across the deserted street. Wilf could just about make out what they were saying now, so they must be coming his way.

“Hang on, but this is just a street in London! Doctor, surely there can’t be anything bad here,” another voice, definitely getting closer, Wilf thought.

“Not necessarily bad, Yaz. Just… important. And anyway, important stuff happens all the time in places you wouldn’t expect!” the first woman replied. “Oh, newspaper stand. Let’s find out what day it is.” Wilf was beginning to think these two were a bit strange.

Wilf’s suspicions were confirmed when he saw what the first lady was wearing. Cropped blue trousers with yellow suspenders, a rainbow stripe across her top and a long grey coat which was being whipped around by the wind. She picked up the nearest newspaper and glanced at it before turning to her friend.

“Christmas Eve, 2010,” she announced.

“What’s so special about Christmas eve 2010, then? Other than it being the time 11-year-old me got upset because most of my friends were celebrating Christmas, but my family weren’t.” the second woman asked. She was younger than her friend and dressed much more appropriately in a thick winter jacket, gloves and a rainbow scarf which matched her friend’s top. Maybe not just friends, then, Wilf wondered.

“No idea. But I’ve got a bit of a track record with near misses at Christmas,” came her reply.

Wilf decided it was time to interrupt the odd conversation, if only to stop the woman from leaving without paying for her newspaper. “Er, that’ll be £1.30, if you’re keeping it, please ma’am.”

Both women startled.

“Sorry, of course,” the younger woman moved forward, fishing some change out of her pocket. Wilf looked back at the other woman as he accepted the payment to find her staring at him, pale as a sheet.

“Your friend alright there? Looks like she’s seen a ghost,” he said.

The girl looked back, concerned. “Doctor? You alright?”

Wilf fumbled with the coins he was putting away. Doctor? Surely not… he thought. His doctor had been a man, to start. This woman couldn’t be him.

Yet she was still staring. Her gaze felt like it was penetrating deep into his soul, as if she already knew everything about him despite neither of them saying a word. That gaze held history, years far beyond her youthful face, and the grief that comes with old age and outliving all those closest to you. Something Wilf had begun to understand himself.

“Doctor…?” Wilf whispered tentatively. “Not… Not my Doctor?” A beat of silence met his question.

Finally, the Doctor smiled. It was a broken, watery smile but a smile, nonetheless. “Hi, Wilf. Fancy seeing you here.”

Wilf fumbled with the bolt on the little cabin door, quietly cursing his cold, shaking hands. He opened the door and took a few steps towards the Doctor, but pulled up short, unable to comprehend what had just been revealed.

“But… You can’t be him! No way, I don’t believe it.” Wilf stuttered stubbornly.

“We met on this very spot four years ago. Your granddaughter was my best mate. You helped me defeat the Master and save the world exactly one year ago today, although it’s been a lot longer than that for me.” The Doctor smiled tentatively. “Do you believe me now?”

Wilf was speechless. He was vaguely aware that he was doing a great impression of a fish out of water, but his mind was focused on fitting all the pieces of the puzzle together. Then again, if this really was the Doctor, the same impossible man that he knew, then he would probably never find all the pieces. He should probably stop trying before he made a fool of himself.

“Y-You’ve changed quite a bit since then, eh?” He finally said, still not quite believing, but willing to accept one more impossible thing about the Doctor.

The Doctor chuckled, “A few times since then, I think.”

“That’s that regeneration thing you said you was gonna do, I’m guessing.” She nodded. “Blimey, you weren’t kidding then.”

It was at this point that the Doctor’s friend decided to chime in. “Um, sorry, but did you say you were mates with his granddaughter? Do you befriend all your mates’ grandparents then?”

“Oi, I choose my mates very carefully. It just so happens that some of them are related in some way…” The Doctor defended lamely. “Oh, where are my manners? Wilf, this is Yasmin Khan, she travels with me like Donna did. Yaz, meet Wilfred Mott.”

The girl, Yaz, smiled sweetly and held out a hand for Wilf to shake. “Nice to meet you, Wilfred. Not met any of the Doctor’s old friends, can’t help but be a little curious.”

“How about we get out of the cold? You look like you could need a cuppa, Wilf.”

\--

“So, you’re telling me that you last saw me _two thousand_ years ago, and you’ve done that regeneration wotsit _twice more_ since then?”

“Yep. Well, almost two thousand. I kind of lost track of how old I was after the second millennium went by, but I’m pretty sure I’m closer to the third now.” The Doctor grinned at Wilf over her steaming cup of tea. They had taken refuge from the winter chill in a café just down the road from the newspaper stand, and frozen fingers were now being defrosted around hot drinks.

“Blimey,” Wilf exclaimed, for what felt like the tenth time in the short conversation. He looked over to Yaz to find that she looked about as shocked as he felt, but she stayed silent, choosing instead to observe.

Wilf was intrigued by the new information this Doctor had given him, but he couldn’t shake the knowledge that his secret would be worth more to her. Well, he thought, he had better tell her the news. She deserved to know, after all, but more importantly he had to do this for Donna.

The Doctor became a little uneasy and shifted slightly in her seat at the look in Wilf’s eye. Something was wrong, she knew it. Wilf breathed deep, ready to spill all.

"Doctor, you have to promise me to look after Donna. She's all on her own now. You see, Sean left her because… well, you know how she gets. She’s got her mother’s temperament, after all." Wilf paused and swallowed. He reached out and took her hand and her hearts skipped a beat at how frail his touch had become. A horrible suspicion began to dawn in her mind. She started to ask where Sylvia was these days, but Wilf interrupted her and answered before she could ask.

 Yaz just watched, her heart aching for the dear old man who seemed so nice from just the short time since they met. Even to her human eyes he seemed frail now.

"You see Doctor, it never really sat right with Sylvia, Donna’s memory being wiped and all. When Shaun left, they had a terrible row. I thought it was just the usual nonsense between them, but then Sylvia told her she was worthless and kicked her out. I sided with Donna, though it broke my heart to do that to Sylvia. You're all Donna has left now, Doctor.” Wilf finished sadly. The Doctor felt terror rising, a cold lump in her chest formed at the implications of Wilf’s words. No, no it can't be, she thought.

With her voice nearly breaking, she managed to ask, "but Wilf, what about you eh? Good old grandad? Wilfred Mott, Wilf! The one and only!?" She sounded almost desperate now.  Wilf’s grip on their clasped hands had gotten even frailer and she surreptitiously scanned him with her sonic. Wilf just looked at her and gave her a sad smile.

"I only go on the paper stand to give me something to do until I go, Doctor. You probably know better than me that I don't have long now. I've been hanging on, hoping for someone since the day the planets moved. Someone who can look after Donna when I'm... when I'm..." his voice broke and he began to wheeze slightly.

The Doctor was horrified as she saw the dear sweet man she thought of as father figure literally come to an end in front of her very eyes. Desperately, she reached for his timeline, searched for his ending, but what she found made the blood drain from her face and tears build in her eyes. She was around the table in a flash to enfold him in a tight hug.

"Look at me, Wilf. I told you once that I wished you were my dad. I still mean it. It's not your fault, remember that, if there's something on the other side. And just remember... You were brilliant."

A chair scraped across the floor as Yaz, who had been watching silently, leaped to her feet at the Doctor’s words. She rushed over to the staff behind the counter, but the Doctor took no notice. All her attention was focused on Wilf.

He was gasping and in pain now. She gave him one last hug as he squeezed her hand feebly. She reached out and touched his temples, gently tugging him into a deep, peaceful sleep for his final moments. She had seen his timeline end and she couldn't change it now. He slipped peacefully into oblivion in the cafe as she held him close and finally let her tears fall.

Yaz had trained for events like this. She knew what to do. 8 minutes, if they were lucky. 8 minutes until the paramedics would tell her what she already feared, and what one look at the Doctor said she knew it was true.

Yaz knelt by the Doctor’s side, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I need you to let go. I can try CPR. Let me try and save him, please.” Yaz tried to toe the line between soft and demanding. It yielded no results. The Doctor barely registered her voice, she just shook her head and cradled Wilf, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Yaz’s heart broke at the sight. “Please, Doctor.”

“You can’t do anything. I’ve seen it. Fixed point.” The Doctor choked out through the ball of emotion in her throat.

Yaz blanched. She felt sick. He couldn’t be. There was no way the Doctor could know that. She stood and began pushing chairs and tables away, making a path to the door for the paramedics, giving herself something to do, to help in some way.

Eventually, the ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed in.

“Doctor, you have to let them do their job, please.” Yaz knelt by the Doctor again as she gently prised her away from Wilf. She was surprisingly compliant once the fluorescent yellow jackets of the paramedics came into view. Yaz led her away to a safe distance while they got to work, but the Doctor’s eyes never left Wilf’s frail form. She felt numb, with no one to blame, nothing except fate and the universe to be angry at.

“…Doctor.” Yaz’s voice broke through the haze that the Doctor had allowed to envelop her. “Doctor, I’m so sorry.” She was crying, and the paramedic beside her had a mournful expression, the bearer of bad news.

“Donna. I need to tell Donna.” The Doctor said, weakly. “Yaz, I have to tell her. She won’t understand but it has to be me.”

Yaz pulled her into a tight hug. “Of course, I’ll go with you.” The Doctor rested her head on Yaz’s shoulder, her hearts aching with sorrow and the weight of the task before her.

**Author's Note:**

> Told you it would be emotional!  
> Watch this space for chapter 2, including Donna!


End file.
